Food of Love
by BLav527
Summary: Modern AU. Sansa and Tyrion go grocery shopping, which leads to cooking, which leads to...


Disclaimer: George R.R. Martin owns them.

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"Remind me again why we're here?" Tyrion asked as he followed Sansa down the baking aisle of the grocery store.

Sansa smiled as she browsed for the ingredients she needed, dropping a few things into the basket he was carrying for her.

"Well," She started. "It began with you saying that the lemon bars at the bake shop were the best you've ever had, which led me to inform you that you had never tasted _my_ lemon bars, which led to you asking me to prove it…so here we are…"

Tyrion smirked as they wandered over to the produce section, watching Sansa pick each lemon with care and place them in the basket that was growing heavier by the minute.

"Ah yes…" He picked a jar out of the basket with a raised eyebrow. "Well if you put olives in your lemon bars I'd say you're off to a terrible start…"

Sansa swatted his arm.

"I'm just picking up a few things while we're here."

"And I get to be your basket boy," Tyrion said with mock indignation.

Sansa laughed, leaning down to peck his lips.

"It's one of the perks of dating me."

"Mmhmm." Tyrion shook his head, but smiled all the same.

Sansa added some tomatoes and a clove of garlic to the basket. "Plus, I've also decided that while I am baking lemon bars for you, you will be cooking dinner for me..."

Tyrion furrowed his brow as he followed her around the stand of apples and pomegranates. "Is that so?"

"Yes," Sansa said, inspecting a pomegranate before changing her mind and heading towards the pears instead. She added them to the basket. "All the time we've been dating you've told me what an excellent cook you are…" She headed to the condiment aisle. "I don't know _how_ considering the only thing I've ever seen in your kitchen is wine…so tonight you get to prove it to me."

Tyrion set the basket down.

"I hate to disappoint you, love…though I won't deny my skills in the kitchen...I can't stand the preparation..." he picked up a bottle of olive oil. "The chopping, the mincing…"

He eyed her as she held up two bottles of low-fat salad dressing, reading the labels.

"Alright," she sighed as she put one bottle back on the shelf and reached for another. "You know, I read an article once that said cooking is great foreplay," she said nonchalantly as she decided on the Italian and walked over to drop it in the basket.

Tyrion's head perked up as she took the olive oil out of his hand.

"Oh really?"

"Mmm…" she nodded, bending down to examine the contents of the basket to make sure they had everything. "Something about the smells…the taste testing…" she licked her lips as she moved the bag of sugar over to make room for the olive oil. "The salty sweetness…the heat…" she looked up at him with a smile as she stood, picking up the basket and heading down the aisle.

Tyrion blinked several times, eyes boring into her back.

"You know, I have a great recipe for chicken piccata…"

Sana glanced over her shoulder, eyes sparkling.

"Sounds delicious."

A few hours later found them on the floor of Sansa's kitchen, wearing nothing but sugar and flour and feeding each other lemon bars.

"Delicious indeed," Tyrion murmured as he nibbled at the piece she offered him, his eyes roving over her body.

"Mmm," Sansa brought her fingers to her lips to lick the excess off. The sight made Tyrion lick his own lips. "Shame about the chicken though…"

Tyrion laughed, rolling over and draping his arm around her, tracing lazy circles on the small of her back. "Yes…it seems we got _too_ distracted by all that taste testing…" he kissed her bare shoulder, his tongue darting out to taste the sugar and starting a trail up to her lips. "The salty sweetness…"

He kissed her hungrily, reveling in the way she sighed against his mouth and pressed herself to him.

"At least the lemons bars were salvageable," She said, a bit breathless when they broke apart.

He smiled as he picked another from the pan and held it to her lips. "And you were right, yours are better than the bake shop…though I don't think this is a very responsible dinner."

She took a small bite, her eyes closing for a moment to savor the taste before taking it from his hands and pressing against him once more. "Well there's still plenty of chicken left..." She nipped at his ear as she spoke. "We could work up another appetite and try again…"

Tyrion growled low in his throat as his grip tightened around her. "Remind me to cook for you more often…"

Sansa smiled against his skin. "That was the plan."


End file.
